


Ash And Smoke

by FairyQueen (etoilecourageuse)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Cemetery, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Minor Character Death, Past Character Death, Post-Second War with Voldemort, Reunions, Salt and Pepper Fest, Sister-Sister Relationship, Ten Years Later, Widowed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-10-09 10:28:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10410129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etoilecourageuse/pseuds/FairyQueen
Summary: The passing years have not made it easier.





	

The passing years had not made it easier. Time had numbed the pain in certain ways, strange ways, had allowed her to breathe again and yet not made it easier. The passing years had not made it easier at all. 

Still, she would visit the crypt every day, still she would kneel by his grave for hours and hours, eyes closed, her trembling hand resting upon the black marble as though through this she could once more feel him, as though through this she could be close to him… At first she had spoken, had spoken to him, her voice frail, her words halting, but at first she had spoken… Until one day she had fallen silent, and now silence was all that reigned, in the crypt and within her home. 

The passing years had not made it easier. Narcissa had grown accustomed to being alone during daytime in a way she had not believed to be possible, as her son’s visits were rare despite his growing concern about her, but the nights… The nights would still bring countless terrors, the nights would still suffocate her, the nights would still… Even now, even nearly a decade after she had lost her husband, nearly a decade after she had held his hand as he had gone to his rest far too soon… Even now the nights without him were unbearable. 

She should have been the first. She should have been the first to go, should have been the first to leave this world as how could she possibly cope without him? How could she possibly cope without her husband, without her Lucius, how could she possibly go on, alone? 

Alone… She was alone now, truly alone, had buried nearly her entire family over the course of her life… Her parents had gone first. Father had fallen in battle when she had been merely a girl, and Mother had followed him into the beyond soon after, stricken by illness that Narcissa was certain had been caused by a broken heart. Neither of her sisters had come to the burial, and even the memory 

Her sisters… Andromeda, Andy, who had once been her only confidante… She had never forgotten her, had never found it possible to hate her and yet she was gone, gone as though she, too, were dead, gone as though… Gone without farewell. 

Bella had been claimed by the war in the same way Father had, but she had left gladly, had gladly sacrificed herself for what she had believed to be a better life, for whom she had believed to… She had left gladly… 

And Lucius? Lucius, who by the end had shared Narcissa’s burning desire for peace, Lucius who had once fought so fiercely yet been broken by the war… He, too, had been wounded in battle, had been wounded severely but never ceased to struggle, never ceased to cling to life… 

Three days. He had been released from his suffering three days after the war had ended, three days after his… He had been released from his suffering, never to see the peace, never to find relief within his life, never to grow old beside her… He had been released from his suffering, and she had been with him, had never left his side until the end. Three days…

The passing years had not made it easier. Still she missed him, missed him so beyond words… She was no longer the same, no longer herself, would find every day anew that nothing had remained of her, nothing at all, but ash and smoke. 

At first it had felt as though grief were to claim her, as though she were to suffer the same fate as her mother, and at times Narcissa had awaited Death willingly, yet always in vain. Always… 

She would scarcely leave the property, would scarcely eat, scarcely speak to anyone except perhaps to Draco, had even released the elf as she could not bear even the imagination of its presence… Solitude had become her shelter, and her ruin. 

At times she’d fall asleep within the crypt, still leaning against his tomb, suddenly stricken by exhaustion, even in the deepest nights of winter, her entire body shivering with cold. At times she’d fall asleep within the crypt, fading into dreams of him, dreams of Lucius, nearly believing that he was holding her within his arms…

The passing years had not made it easier.

Narcissa would nearly scream as one day she awoke, her entire body aching, awoke there by his grave, feeling a hand upon her shoulder, dared not turn her head at first as she believed it to be her son, as she believed it to be Draco, Draco who could not possibly see her in a state like this, so weak, so full of grief, who could not possibly…

But it wasn’t.

“Cissy…”

Again it seemed so difficult to suppress a scream, a scream at the voice so strange, and yet so familiar… It could not… It could not be… How? How… It could not…

Her own grief had caused Andromeda to age beyond her years, yet her beauty had not faded, her dark hair falling down her back like a waterfall of pure silk, her features soft as they had always been, but her eyes… Her eyes so full of sadness, so full… She looked more like Mother than she ever had before. 

Narcissa seemed incapable of speaking, could do nothing but look at her sister, look at her long lost sister as though she were a ghost, merely a spirit conjured by her weary mind… Her emotions seemed to overwhelm her, surprise giving way to anger, unspeakable anger that she had left her behind for too long, anger over happenings long past, happenings that seemed long barred now… So late… She had come to her so late, so… Her anger, too, would soon fade, however, and so suddenly there was nothing but relief, nothing but despair, pure despair…

For a moment she seemed paralysed, paralysed at the sight, barely able to process… So long… It had been so long, they had not looked into each other’s eyes for so long, had not… It had been so long, nearly their entire lives, it had been… They were strangers, almost, and not sisters, yet in this moment it felt as though they had never been apart, as though nothing had happened, nothing at all… 

Narcissa had long believed her tears to be dried out, had shed too many over the years, yet now they came falling from her eyes once more as she flung her arms about her sister’s neck, as she collapsed into her embrace, suddenly bereft of any strength…

They both were alone. They both had lost so much in the war, had been so desperate to cope alone for too long, so desperate to be strong… Andromeda, too, seemed to surrender to her emotions for a moment as she, too, would no longer hold back her tears, as she, too, began to tremble… 

Narcissa would not ask why she had come to reach out to her after all those years, ten years after the war had ended, ten years after the tragedies had befallen them both, would not ask why she had not written to her, would not speak out any of the questions that burnt so upon her lips but hold her, would merely hold her so tight and not let go, never let go… 

Was this to be a new beginning? Was this to be _their_ new beginning, was this to be…? Andromeda would not leave again, Narcissa knew that she wouldn’t, could feel it, feel it so deep within her that she would not leave again, not … She would not leave again, never again… A new beginning… 

It would not be the same… Nothing would ever be the same, the emptiness within them would never be filled… But she was here… Andromeda was here, and for the first time in a decade Narcissa felt hope rise within her, for the first time she felt the desperate longing for Death to claim her fade. 

A new beginning… 

The passing years had not made it easier. The pain had faded but the scars would remain, would remain as long as she lived, yet perhaps to know her sister by her side would cause her to once more draw strength, the strength to cope… Perhaps through each other they both would draw strength. 

The passing years had not made it easier, had not made it easier for either of them. But the small glimmer of light that had reached Narcissa through her sister would shine, would shine forever, and it would merely grow. Together, they would live. Together they would cope.


End file.
